


Between the Shelves

by ModernArt2012



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Future Fic, M/M, They're old okay, library setting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-13
Updated: 2018-01-13
Packaged: 2019-03-04 12:01:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13364277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ModernArt2012/pseuds/ModernArt2012
Summary: They’re retired(ish) and Otabek is a librarian at the university for the rare books collection. Yuri. Well Yuri is an asshole.





	Between the Shelves

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Muspell](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Muspell/gifts).



> For Musi. Te amo mucho querida. <3

It's three days until finals begin, and the library is packed to the rafters, stinking strongly of coffee and desperation. Otabek snorts amusedly into his tea; students, he finds, never change. Still, he’s glad at the overwhelming lack of crowd in his side of the library. Few people need the rare books collection this late in the year, and if they do they're usually academics, and that means Otabek can read the latest articles and get a headstart on the research requests put in for the upcoming year at leisure. 

 

He's partially done putting together a bibliography for a visiting academic researching 12th century intercontinental trade across the Silk Road - with an interest in the records regarding the nomadic tribes of the steppe, as seen in written accounts of traders - when he hears the jingle of bells above his head. 

 

Startled, he looks up only to be ambushed by plush lips turned into a wicked grin. There's only one person who would come into the rare collections so shamelessly, so Otabek sinks into the kiss as it turns from chaste to indecent. 

 

He lets his  _ oh so mysterious _ assailant pull back with no resistance. “Hey you.” The voice is fond, if smug, “You here often?” 

 

“Yura, did you just ambush me with mistletoe and then use a pick up line on me?” Otabek frowns. 

 

Yuri, unrepentant, snickers. “Of course. Only the best for you, dearest.” He then vaults over the arm of Otabek’s chair and settles himself boldly in Otabek’s lap. This isn’t actually unusual, so Otabek returns to building the bibliography with a lapful of 6-foot-something mischievous blonde. He’s just saving the finalized copy when Yuri speaks again. “Beka?”

 

“Yes, Yura?” 

 

“Wanna go home with me?” Verdant eyes sparkle with humor as long muscled arms twine around Otabek’s neck, eyebrows going up and down in a manner that Otabek is sure meant to be salaciously propositional. “It’s supposed to turn into a blizzard, and well,” eyes lower with false demureness, “the best way to stay warm in a blizzard is to share body heat.”

 

“Yura, you’re Russian. This Canadian winter has nothing on the winters you grew up with.” Toronto is less cold than St. Petersburg, or Moscow, or really anywhere in Russia not above the Arctic Circle. 

 

“Which is why I know the best ways to stay warm.” His grin is blinding and unashamed, but he has a point. Even the winters Otabek had weathered in Canada as a youth had nothing on this one, and he could already feel the ache building in his joints - he could only imagine Yuri’s state. 

 

The snow will make travel difficult soon, and Otabek would like to miss out on the rush of everyone attempting to get home. It’s also a tempting idea, to go back to their warm home and curl up together under the thick goose down blankets. Otabek collects his satchel and thermos. “Let’s go Yura.” 

 

Yuri’s grin brightens and softens as he exits Otabek’s lap, sneaking another kiss just because he can. “Good.” As Yuri continues to chatter on - his best student Alex going and challenging someone in the dance department to a dance off and is sulking about the rink in disgrace since he lost (honestly, unwise and ill considered all around, and Otabek has to bite his tongue on pointing out Yuri had done the same with Yuuri Katsuki once upon a time), Otabek thinks about the gift he has tucked under their “entirely capitalistic entrapment piece of wood, Beka, why are we doing this even”. They’ve been in Canada for years now, and it’s something he’s been turning over in his mind. Hopefully, though, Yuri would like it. It’s something Otabek had been keeping an eye on for a while, even though between the two of them they had enough gold to last a lifetime. 

 

They exit the library hand in hand, into the thick flakes falling fast. “Hey Beka?” Otabek turns to face Yuri, who’s stopped in the middle of the path. His hands are stuffed into his pockets, body language the same as the teenager in the alley Otabek had found eons ago, but his eyes are the same as they have always been. The fearless soldier. Then there’s a box thrust into his hands, small and black velvet. The question remains unasked, but Otabek knows Yuri knows the answer already. The band is thin and shines like dulled silver, and Yuri reaches out to slip it on his right ring finger. “Platinum, because you’re more than just gold.” 

 

Any other time Otabek would tease Yuri for the pun, but for now settles for kissing him slowly in the snow. There will be time enough for teasing later, perhaps by the fire curled up close and sweaty under their blankets, with laughter and complaining cats, or in the kitchen with slowly baking cookies and blini coated in powdered sugar like the snow falling outside. For now, this is enough. 

**Author's Note:**

> Come scream with me on [ tumblr](http://modernart2012.tumblr.com)!
> 
> I promise I'm friendly! 
> 
> Also, please feel free to leave concrit! I enjoy it!


End file.
